


the monster you've made of me

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Mild Gore, Multi, Post-Episode: s01e08 Bad Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon doesn't get tired. It must be a vampire thing, because <i>fuck</i> he's been running and running and running and there's nothing that can stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the monster you've made of me

**Author's Note:**

> written for the shadowhunters ficathon, [come play](http://ladygawain.livejournal.com/83265.html)

Simon doesn't get tired. It must be a vampire thing, because _fuck_ he's been running and running and running and there's nothing that can stop him. 

Clary turned him into a monster. 

He still can't wrap the words around his head, they twist and dip, they _can't_ be true. Clary- Clary who couldn't watch horror flicks because the blood looked too real, Clary who couldn't eat meat when she thought about where it came from, Clary-

Clary was supposed to love him. 

Not- not the way he loves her, he knows that. But they were supposed to be best friends forever-

(The word has a new bitter twist on his lips, and Simon keeps running until Raphael tells him the sun is coming up. He still isn't tired, and his thoughts are still moving too quickly, and he can't fucking get it to stop.)

.

It feels like that time he and Clary downed three of the giant pixie sticks each and they were bouncing off the walls for hours. And then they crashed and napped- and it doesn't matter, because _Simon isn't crashing_. 

His mind and body just keep going, and he can't stop thinking of the fucking energizer bunny- and not even slamming the imaginary bunny with a cartoonishly large mallet makes him feel better, because he's still the fucking rabbit. 

No one ever told him vampires didn't have an off-button. 

(Not that he would have believed them if they had. Not that it could have changed anything, it's not like he had an in case of supernatural death will- and _that_ was the problem. He should have made one back when he found out about all of this crap. A nice simple, _Dear Clary, please don't turn me into a goddamn monster_ , would have done the trick.)

.

Raphael says the extra energy will wear off in a few decades. 

Simon punches a hole through a wall. 

(He doesn't even feel good or cool doing it, he just _wants it to stop_.)

.

Clary visits. 

Clary visits with Jace, apologies and tears on her face before she's even in the building, and Simon wants to hate her. 

He can't. He doesn't really want to- it'd just be easier. Easier than smelling their blood when they walk in, long before they're in sight, smelling far better than any of the blood bags he's had. 

They're talking, but all Simon can hear is her pulse or Jace's, when he switches focus. He knows he could get his teeth in her, get a mouthful or two before Jace attacked- maybe more if he could be stealthy, if he could play normal for a bit. 

(Raphael's still smirking in the background, and he wonders if he knows everything he's thinking.)

“-Simon, I love you.” 

And she's inching closer, and Simon can't _breathe_ because every single one of his new senses is screaming to attack her. His eyes flicker to Jace, but he doesn't look worried for Clary's safety, is staring off into the decrepit building, and Simon doesn't know if he wants to drain his best friend more or yell at Jace for not being more vigilant. 

“Simon,” she repeats, small hands cupping his face. It's so close to a dream he's had a dozen times, it calms him. 

“I'm sorry, I couldn't let you go.” 

Slow tears are dripping down her cheeks, and her eyes are full of fire. “I _won't_ let you go.” 

Simon isn't breathing, hasn't been for the last few minutes. And before that can evoke another wave of self-hatred, Clary is kissing him. 

Clary is kissing him and all he can think about is how easily her lip could split open. Clary is kissing him and he can't make his brain stop. He could push her against the wall, go for her neck. Or bite her tongue and swallow any moans. Or, or, or-

They break apart, and Clary stays close, arms wrapped around his neck, a bright smile on her face. Like this was some fairy tale and a kiss would solve everything. 

“Clary,” he finally says, “I am trying _really_ hard not to bite you.” 

She gasps, and Jace finally decides he's a threat, coming closer and putting himself directly between them. 

“Easy,” Jace says, and it takes him a minute to realize Jace is talking to _him_. 

Raphael sighs loudly, “Are you two going to relocate him before or after the sun rises?”

Jace rolls his eyes, “Alright newbie vamp, we're bringing you to a freshly stocked safe house.” 

“It's-” and he stops himself before he can say _Simon_ , it catches in his throat like god does, and he can't look at any of them. 

He's a _monster_. 

Clary's monster has a ring to it, a la Frankenstein. 

(But then that makes Clary Prometheus, and he'd rather take back his name than turn her into that.)

.

The safe house is smaller than Simon expects, mostly underground, and he's pretty sure it's a WWII bunker. That or there was some supernatural fright that the humans don't get to know about- and that- that's not a good direction to go in. (New conspiracy theories pop up in his head uninvited, and god, it's like Maureen's in his head- she would _flip_.)

There's a cooler full of blood, and Clary is telling him to pace himself, but the thirst just _won't quit_. 

Jace tells her not to worry, that he can pick more up, and Simon can't bring himself to care- he just wants the hunger to go away. 

.

Clary kisses him now, like a regular thing. 

He already freaked out at her once, saying if she was just doing it because she felt guilty to _not_ \- and she was shaking her head rapidly and kissing him again. Simon likes kissing her even more when there aren't tears slipping into their mouths, and he isn't entirely focused on her pulse. 

She kisses Jace too. 

He's not sure what type of reaction he's supposed to have to it. 

Probably not wanting to slam Jace against the nearest surface just to see which instinct wins out- lust or hunger. 

None of them talk about it. 

(It's a good thing. Talking, listening- both are harder like this. He wonders if it'll go away in a few decades.)

.

The anger never completely fades. 

He lashes out, randomly, and Clary screams back, saying he would have done the same. 

Hypotheticals don't count, he hisses, and Jace comes between them, soothing. Simon never would have imagined Jace as a peacekeeper, but he does it well, smooth promises and kisses for everyone. 

The first time, Jace kisses him like it's unremarkable, without warning or preamble. He just dusts Simon's lips with a kiss after Clary, and that's that.

(The safe house's bed is way too tiny for the three of them, and Clary sleeps sprawled on top of them both. And every once in a while, Simon forgets that he's hungry.)


End file.
